On Proper Employment
by zoeller
Summary: Where Gokudera sees a terrible mistake, Reborn sees opportunity. Set directly pre-series.


AN: Right, so I'm actually really fascinated with the sort of life Gokudera must have lived before going to Japan to see Tsuna. I know it states—or I think it does—that Gokudera hadn't actually met Reborn before arriving in Japan, but I'm going to pretend I didn't know that, so let's suspend our disbelief, yeah? This was originally going to be the start of something larger, but I forgot what and decided it would be a shame to not do anything else with it since I rather like it, so here it is.

* * *

It was a rather delicate situation. Reborn looked once between the corpse and the boy, his lips a thin line, the only sign of his displeasure.

"You didn't think this through."

The boy shook his head furiously. Reborn could hear his blustering before he ever opened his mouth. "Bastard _deserved_ it! If he woke up right now—"

"He's not going to."

"—I'd fucking kill him _again_!"

Smoking Bomb Hayato, for all his inexperience, certainly knew how to leave a pretty body in his wake. Reborn expected charred limbs and chunks of flesh dripping, still smoking, from the low-hanging ceiling, but he walked into the poorly-lit hotel room to the sight of a man's body looking so peaceful he might as well have been sleeping.

"The Baressi won't take kindly to this." Reborn took three short steps from the doorway toward the boy, hopping up to the mattress. His feet trod mistakenly on Guido Baressi's fingers. More's the pity. "He's the most," and here Reborn paused, looking for just the word and finding himself forced to settle on, "_well-thought of _heir to their Family."

"Tch." Smoking Bomb looked away, eyes still burning. Then, "Doesn't say much about their Family, then, does it?"

There was a story, right there. Reborn dragged his eyes back to the body, to the unclasped catch of Guido Baressi's trousers. "What did he want?" Keep it light. Don't antagonize him, not before the dust settles. Much like his designated title, Smoking Bomb was ten times more dangerous than Guido Baressi ever could have been: a hair-trigger temper, frightful potential, and inexperience make him as much a danger to the world as he is to himself.

Hayato looked back to the body. "He said," a beat of hesitation. "He said he'd let me in the Family."

"Into the Baressi?"

"Yeah."

"For a cost?"

A longer pause, heavier this time. "Yeah," Hayato said, rough.

Reborn hummed and prodded Guido's swollen face with the barrel of his gun. "Is that really the role you want to play?"

Hayato's face burned a livid red. "Nobody said—he didn't say! That's not what he—"

"He wouldn't have, would he?" Heaving a sigh, and pleased with how put-upon he managed to sound, Reborn tucked his gun away and tilted down the brim of his hat. "How about another try?"

Hayato blinked. He worked his mouth once, twice, and finally settled on cocking his head to the side like a bewildered dog. "Um," he said. "What?"

"The Baressi will be around eventually. This will make it difficult for you to live in Italy." Reborn managed not to smile _too_ widely when he added, "Actually, this is going to make it difficult for you to live at all!"

Hayato's face drained of color. Well, Reborn hadn't been joking when he said the boy didn't think this one through.

"Too bad," Reborn said. "Really, that's just too bad."

"What do—Reborn, what do I do?" The boy's voice shook, but not overly so. As the weight of his actions finally began to settle over him, Hayato's expression went sickly, yet resolved. _I don't want to die_, his eyes said.

Reborn could, at the very least, respect the sentiment.

"Too bad," he said again, louder this time, as a ruckus of some sort had picked up on the first floor. Hayato's eyes tore to the door, then back to the miniature hitman.

"Reborn—"

"Things are just starting to get interesting in the world, too. The next Vongola heir was found. Have you heard?"

Hayato looked so blindsided it took a great amount of will for Reborn not to break into fits of laughter. "Japan?" he echoed. "The Vongola heir?"

"From the Primo's line, you know. He's about your age." The noise outside was growing closer. Reborn took a pamphlet from his jacket and thrust it into Hayato's hands. "You should come," he said casually. "It might be fun. You know, if you live long enough."

Reborn hopped out the window and down into the alley below, but not before hearing Hayato's bemused, "Namimori Summer Festival?"

No doubt about it. Things could only get more interesting from here.


End file.
